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We’ve made it quick and convenient for you to manage your blog from anywhere. In this blog post we’ll share the ways you can post to your Wix Blog. Blogging from Your Wix Blog Dashboard On the dashboard, you have everything you need to manage your blog in one place. You can create new posts, set categories and more. To head to your Dashboard, open the Wix Editor and click on Blog > Posts. Blogging from Your Published Site Did you know that you can blog right from your published website? After you publish your site, go to your website’s URL and login with your Wix account. There you can write and edit posts, manage comments, pin posts and more! Just click on the 3 dot icon ( ⠇) to see all the things you can do. #bloggingtips #WixBlog

Admit it, you’ve become accustomed to your fears. It’s become your habit. It’s such a habit that not an hour goes by where you are not thinking about your fears. Most of us spend our entire life harboring our fears; feeding them, exaggerating them, and adding new ones. Fear comes in many forms: fear of rejection, fear of speaking up, fear of applying for a job, fear of dying, fear of sickness, fear of flying and the list goes on. But let’s establish something, all your fears are bullshit. That's right. Complete and utter bullshit. To be honest, most of our fears are figments of our imaginations. You have invested so much time in your fears that you’ve created a pretty shitty habit. Being afraid has become an epidemic; a regular part of life. And because it is so normal in our society, because almost everyone (friends, family, partners) are consumed with fear, you believe it is a completely acceptable habit. It's not! So many people are frozen with fear that they have allowed it to control them. They hesitate, back down, question, and ultimately take no action. They watch others pass them by and achieve their goals while they stay on the sidelines of life. Ultimately, they waste their short time on this earth obsessing over their fears. Here’s the truth of the matter: You have conformed to the disease of the masses; fear, loathing, complaining, and poverty logic. You’ve taken on the fears and habits of our parents and your parents' parents. You’ve convinced yourself that your fears are real. You may never stop being afraid, but you cannot stop living. You must stop playing small, stop thinking small, stop second guessing yourself. How do you respond to someone when you know they are bullshitting you? You ignore them, tell them to get the hell out of your face, and move on. That is how you must handle your fears. When Stacey was graduating with her bachelor’s degree back in 2011, she met a woman in her seventies who was also graduating. While they stood in line waiting to enter the auditorium, this lady shared with Stacey how she was afraid of going back to school, but she knew she had to push her fears aside and persevere. Essentially, she called bullshit on her fear. Everything that you want to accomplish in your life is still in reach if you just call bullshit on your fears. Don't make excuses for not being great. You're never too old, too young, too fat, too small etc. to do anything you want. And, if you’re going to create a habit, make sure it’s not a shitty one. Create a habit that serves you positively. Live LOYT.

Back in 2008, we started creating vision boards. After watching the movie, The Secret, we were drawn to the benefits of visualization of what you want to show up in your life. We came across an old vision board last night we created in 2009. We were two years into our marriage and were still trying to figure our lives out both professionally and personally. We were in individual and couples’ counseling and our relationship was not welcomed by some family members. Stacey was an IT Manager at the time, determined on climbing the corporate ladder, with wishes of becoming a Director. We also had dreams of traveling to London and Paris. The vision for our lives at the time was to build a strong marriage while achieving career and financial stability. We stared at this vision board weekly, and when we weren't near the board, we kept that vision in our heads. We talked to each other about our vision constantly. We achieved that vision and then some. We traveled to Paris and London in style, Stacey became a Director, and our marriage is rock solid. Since then, we have created multiple visions. Whenever we achieve one of our visions, we create another. In fact, every New Year's Day, we write our goals down and place them on the refrigerator where we can see them and check them off as we complete them, which aids in visualization. YOU create your life and what you think we become. If you visualize poverty and being broke, that is what will show up in your life. If you think you’re not good enough, you'll attract people in your life who will treat you that way. If you think you will never find love, that is exactly what will happen. Do you have a vision for your life? If not, start today. Create a vision board, write your goals down, post your goals and your vision board somewhere you are constantly reminded of what you want to manifest. Be patient and stay the course. Nothing happens overnight. Do not allow negative thinking (including your own) or naysayers to deter you from your vision. No vision is too great to achieve. And as always, Live Life on Your Own Terms. Our 2008 vision board referenced in this blogl:

Have you ever been in a relationship where you lost yourself? When you met your partner, you were your own person; independent, sexy, and spontaneous. Then, one day you look at yourself and realize you have no idea who you are: you’ve gained weight, you’re no longer adventurous, you have no outside interests, and maybe just maybe you’ve succumbed to wearing those dreaded “mom or dad jeans”. Yuck! When you try to reclaim your individuality, your partner may criticize you or feel threatened. They may even discourage your individuality. Stacey: I spent 12 years in a relationship where my entire identity was lost. The inquisitive, wild, and free person my ex-partner loved when she met me, soon became a threat. I succumbed and settled into a relationship of mediocrity where my beliefs, likes and dislikes were no longer my own. I began to feel imprisoned, suffocated and resentful which resulted in the demise of our partnership. Cheralyn: When I left my last relationship, I didn’t know who I was. I allowed myself to care more about my partner’s needs than my own. She had been in an established, serious relationship prior to me, so I automatically assumed she knew more and I should follow her lead. I muted conversations that were important to me such as talking about religion and sexuality. I also denied wanting a casual glass of wine socially just because my ex criticized any type of alcoholic beverage. I knew that relationship was not for someone like me who is a free spirit and a life explorer. When I exited the relationship, I felt lost and unsure of who I was. Because I spent so much time trying to be who my ex wanted me to be, I didn’t know what I liked. I had to learn who I was all over again. We both acquiesced to our ex-partners’ scoffing and the "I" that we once knew slowly disappeared. We were in "WE”lationships. We shared only the same interests as our partners. We only shared the same friends. We relied only on each other. Relationships are about maintaining your individuality while sharing yourself with another person, but we tend to lose ourselves somewhere along the way. In some instances, your partner may believe they have a right to dictate who you are. Your partner does not own you and you do not own your partner. Do you want to go to Vegas with friends? Are you questioning religion? Do you want to be vegan but your family eats meat or vice versa? Do you want to cut your hair off? EMBRACE IT! Maintaining your individuality and sense of self is critical to the longevity of your partnership and preservation of your sanity. As people, we need a sense of autonomy to be our best selves. If you cannot be who YOU truly are, it will show up negatively in other areas of your life, including your relationship. Your partner cannot be your EVERYTHING, and we should not look to them to be our everything. Encourage individuality and growth within your relationship. Do not allow anyone to stunt your growth, your uniqueness, or your independence. Maintain both I’s in the relationship (you and your partner). Always remember and honor who you are. Do not wake up one day unable to recognize your refection in the mirror. This is YOUR journey. Live LOYT!

I started burning myself at the age of 15. A friend and I burned ourselves in an attempt to engrave a symbol on our arms. After going to the local mall and buying a book on witchcraft, we decided we needed a symbol of our commitment to our new two-person coven. We drew up a draft of our symbol containing our initials (S & T) and then proceeded to etch that symbol into our forearms. Our etching tools? A hanger and a cigarette lighter. I remember how the first burn felt on my skin. It was startling, but something about it made me feel alive. Over the next year, my friend and I continued to recreationally burn ourselves leading to the first time I used burning to cope with pain. The first time I burned myself to deal with my emotions was right after my first girlfriend broke up with me. I was completely devastated. It was a pain that I had never felt before. I felt embarrassed, inferior and unworthy. I did not want to eat or get out of bed, and I had no one to talk to about what I was feeling. The pain of the breakup with my girlfriend was unbearable. What was I supposed to do without her? I thought she loved me. What did I do wrong? How could I fix it? Whatever I did to lose her, I swore I would never do it again. I just wanted her back. My chest hurt. I began to think of how stupid I was for allowing this to happen. Why wasn’t I good enough? I walked to my closet and grabbed a hanger, straightened out its hooked curve and proceeded to heat it up with a lighter. As the hanger turned from copper to black, I prepared myself for the burning sensation. I burned my arm and my stomach, and as I felt the pain, I realized I preferred the sensation of a hot hanger far better than the emotional pain I was feeling at the time. After that night, burning was quickly placed in my teenage coping mechanism tool box and used to protect myself from emotional pain. Whenever I was upset, whenever emotional pain was too much to bear, I burned. My mom had no interest in talking about my “little friend" as she often referred to my girlfriend. Frankly, she was quite embarrassed and disgusted that her daughter might be "funny" (a black colloquialism for gay). My dad was struggling with my sexuality as well. He wanted no part of it. He made this clear the night he beat me for sitting outside on the steps with my girlfriend. Earlier that evening, my girlfriend came over to see me. My mom was furious. She insisted that my girlfriend leave immediately. Cooperating with my mother’s request, we walked outside and sat on the steps in front of my apartment building. About 30 minutes later my dad appeared. I had not seen him in weeks, and I was surprised and excited to see him. He lived about a half hour away with his new wife and my step brothers. Even though he was not around often, I held a deep admiration for him. He was a hero to me. "Dad!" I exclaimed. I stood up waiting for his embrace, but he grabbed my neck and dragged me upstairs to our apartment. What happened next was the worst beating of my life. As my mother looked on, my dad proceeded to hit me with his fists. I remember the brown carpet of our two-bedroom apartment vividly because I spent the next harrowing 15 minutes on the floor trying to shield myself from the blows. Thankfully there was a knock at the door. Our neighbor heard the commotion and called 911. When the police arrived, they took me aside and asked if I wanted to press charges against my dad. I said "no" They talked to him and my mom separately and then asked him to go home. Later that night, my dad called to apologize. I was no stranger to my father’s abuse, but I had never been his target. During my parents’ marriage hitting was reserved for my mother. After some time, the burning seemed to lose its efficacy; this resulted in finding another method to soothe my emotions. I turned to cutting. Cutting was quick and easy. There was no preparation of finding a hanger, straightening it out and heating it. All I needed was a razor blade which I kept in my room. I cut when I had arguments with my mom when I felt rejected by the kids at school or when my girlfriend would pop in and then leave me again after she lost interest. I cut the day the kids at my high school found out about me being gay and subsequently bullying my younger sister and me. Cutting became a part of me; a comfort and It followed me into my adult life. My experience as a child was a particularly numb. I had a semi-normal childhood complete with long hours outside playing with my cousins, church and made up games, starting at the age of 9, I floated from panic and fear to severe insecurity, to deep states of creativity (writing poetry and songs), That was my entire existence. I lived in a home where we did not show affection. There were no hugs, no 'I love you's'; we did not talk about our emotions. Yelling and screaming and "whoopings" were the order of the day. I often retrieved switches off of trees acting as an accomplice to my beatings. The small bit of emotion that I received in my life came from my maternal great grandma and sometimes my dad, but a hug or two once a month was all I could expect. When I started my next relationship at the age of 18, I continued cutting. The fast moving, highly contentious and abusive relationship was a constant trigger for me. At the age of 31, I started dating my now wife. I did not tell her about the cutting; she discovered it by chance. One night while lying in bed watching television, she placed her hand on my stomach. I jumped from the pressure of her hand. “What’s wrong with your stomach?” She asked. “Nothing, I’m fine,” I said. My wife, not one to take no for an answer, lifted my shirt. When she did, she gasped at the sight of slashes on my stomach. The night before, we had one of our usual dysfunctional moments. Our ability to communicate as a couple was below mediocre. Our arguments were filled with unhealthy learned behaviors, underdeveloped emotions, and unfinished childhood business. Two hurt children eventually become two hurt adults doomed for failure when they try to form a union. At the time, I traded my daily three anti-anxiety medication for a glass of vodka every morning before work. Additionally, small bottles of airline sized vodka littered the floorboard of my car as I often had to come to the car during the day for a drink. When our arguments became too much to bear; When I felt like she was slipping away from me, I cut. At some point during the argument the night before, I went to the bathroom as I always did to cut. After her discovery, I came clean. Her reaction was one of fear and confusion. “Black people don’t do things like this.” She said. “How do I know you won’t cut me too?” “This is weird,” she said. She became distant. She refused to sleep in the bed next to me. I had never thought of my cutting in the context of race. I was crushed that she thought I would ever do anything to hurt her. I explained that my cutting was about me not about anyone else. For the next few months she was uneasy, and for the first four years of our relationship, she became reluctantly accustomed to my cutting. The fact is black girls cut, too. According to a study published in the British Journal of Psychiatry, young black women are often more likely to participate in self-harm than their white counterparts. The study also revealed that fewer young black females receive psychiatric care. While this problem exists in the black community, its existence is hidden, ignored and even feared when discovered. Emotion in the black community is often viewed as inherently “white”, this comes from not having a channel in which to communicate the extreme traumatization that began with slavery. Then, once we were granted freedom, it came without proper preparation, counseling or any appropriate outlet to start anew and heal our emotions. This learned behavior has continued in the rearing of generations after slavery where emotional health is seen as secondary to survival. My propensity to cut and burn myself was rooted in generations of pain and emotional trauma. I had unknowingly inherited the generational habit of staying silent about my pain. I watched my mom wear sun glasses to work to cover her black eyes but never talking about how it made her feel. I witnessed my grandma secretly mourn the loss of her two boys through misdirected anger and hurt. I had taken on my dad's habit of replacing the pain from his childhood with alcoholic and rage rather than simply saying he was still hurting years later. My inability to process my pain and process what I was feeling manifested into two decades of trying to cut or burn the pain away. I wanted the pain to seep from my veins rather than my heart, where it hurt the most. I did not know how to handle a broken heart, rejection, or abandonment. 27 years ago when I felt that first burn, it was a welcomed sensation compared to the numbness I was accustomed to. It has now been seven years since I have cut or burned myself. The last occurrence was unlike the others. Rather than responding to my cutting with fear, my wife's response was one of compassion. After she discovered I cut, she embraced me, and I sunk into her arms. For the first time, I felt safe. We cried together, vowed to explore emotions together and from then on when I felt the urge to cut, I spoke instead. When I felt abandoned, I said it. When I felt fearful of losing her, I said it. When I felt crazy, I said it. Little by little, the voice of my pain replaced my urge to hurt myself. I was unknowingly breaking the generational cycle. This has, in turn, resulted in forgiving myself and forgiving the adults throughout my life who I thought failed me. How could they possibly address my pain if they had not yet addressed their own? The research on this subject is difficult to find. Other than the aforementioned British study, and an article written by an African American mother’s experience with her then 15-year-old daughter’s cutting, the information is lacking. In the absence of resources, and research I offer my story as an introduction to the subject of self-harm and a source of support for families and individuals who may be suffering. This is in no way a substitute for medical advice; my hope is that my transparency will act as a catalyst that aids in breaking this generational pattern.

It still amazes me what Stacey and I are able to accomplish TOGETHER. It has never proven more true than it did sitting next to Stacey as we both wait to walk across the stage to obtain our Master's degrees. I was inspired to be in the presence of so many fellow graduates who were being obedient to their purpose. Listening to the keynote speech at our graduation validated that ignited passion I feel everyday not only to be my best self but to be an example and inspiration for others to be their best selves. Some takeaways, with a little added Cheralyn spice that I want to share are: Purpose is not your job; it's your calling. Purpose ignores the circumstances, naysayers, excuses, etc. Our kids aren't the the reason to stop but the reason you continue. I hope I can serve as an inspiration to someone today! We are married, have careers, have twins and now BOTH have MBAs! #StevensonStrong

My kids do NOT come first. I come first, then my marriage, then my kids! Don't forget what you had that gave you the strength and courage to expand your love. You had kids because you had extra love to give. Don't take love and attention away from what you had and replace the love that was strongly placed in yourself and your partner with your kids. It is unhealthy to make your kids your world. They will be self-absorbed as a result. Kids need to see a successful, loving bond so they can have healthy relationships with others and theirselves. I know my belief isn't popular, but neither is being in an amazing relationship for 11 years with wonderful kids. You come first!